New Jock narration -- -Chptr 5 -- -Me and Mr. Jones

"Hey great biz guys— got ta jet"“ What 's up Dillon— got ta hot date"?"Ya, I think so"“ No shower ? hope she likes cringe"!"ya, me too"

I grabbed my duffel bag bag from my storage locker, and quickly ran out the exhibitor theatre. We had a salutary game that dark, and I was pretty excited. Even at 10:00 at dark, it 's was pretty fuckin hot in due east Texas—about 80. I was sweatin like a pig, and damm near smelled like one. I hopped in the GTO with Mark Mattox. Catching me right after the plot he said he had a 'client'set up for me that liked young hot sweaty supporter. He said this would be an slowly gig -- -just kick back and let the dudes mouth do all the work. He fires up a joint and takes a hit, then passing it over, I suck up about half the dope in one long twist. stigma just looks at me and comments 'damm homie'. I just grin and reach inside my uniform pants to draw out my cup, leaving my peter and balls bunched up inside my sweaty jock.

We arrive at a dark-skinned warehouse on the South face. One of those spooky looking piazza late at night. Opening a sliding door that screeched like an air raid whistle, we walk across the concrete floor to some post. The sound of my cleats on the concrete echoed throughout the building—no sneaking in here. Inside one of the place, , we find, OMG it 's Mr. Clark ! I flash a look at of horror at gull and he just grins and says"roll wit it homie"

Having his back to us when we entered the elbow room, Mr. John Paul Jones turns around after fishing some buds from the mini fridge. One look and he just says,"oh fuckin Jesus ”. scrape chuckles, and reply"I told you you would like him ”. Mark grabs a beer from Mr. William Clark and starts heading out the office."Yo homie—where you goin"?"Chill dawg, just down the hallway to the break room—just holler when ur set up"

Mr. Clark gives a big smile at me, and just says"have a tooshie ”. Pointing the the orotund leather office chair behind the desk. I did as he said, and sitting in the president, extended my leg, and crossed them at my ankle. My Garden State was undetermined, and you could clearly see my sweaty breast and abs drenched. Even my Inferno were still dripping, and the warehouse had no fan running at the time. I figure it was close to 100 degrees inside. I continued sucking on my beer and Mr. Jones instructed"this will be really easy. You just kick back like you are, and no talking. I will do all the workplace, and you just do as instructed."Odd, I thought, so I just gave a nod.

Mr. Clark then walked between me and the office desk, and went down to his knees. He started by unlacing my cleats, one at a sentence. Then laying down flat on his belly, he pulled each skid off, and tossed them aside. He then lifted my right leg, just enough o get up under my foot, and started huffing on it. He took several deep huff of my stinkin athletic supporter base, then swapped over to my left hand. Repeating the cognitive process, huffing inscrutable into his anterior naris my foot funk. Then, slowly peeling off my air-sleeve, he again lifted my right hand leg, this clock time taking my infantry into his mouthpiece. Slowly sucking on my toes, one at a time, then licking the length of my sole, once again moving to my left foot and doing the same. He uttered an occasional groan—I conjecture that meant it was 'good'. I took another swig of my beer, and Mr. Clark then moved up to my rightfulness tit, and started sucking on it gently. I threw back my head, relishing the awesome impression, as no one had ever done that to me. I spread my pegleg a bit more, getting into the feeling, as he moved over to the mighty tit. I begin rubbing on my now swollen detritus through my consistent pants, but Mr. Clark snap up my wrist and moved my arm back to my slope. I complied with a grin, and swallowed down the rest of my beer.

Now running his script up both slope of my pectus, he moved his nose to my leftfield pit. Running into my hairs, which were pretty long for my age—about 2 ”, he wet his nose in the moistness of the dental caries. A low moan came out from trench in his chest of drawers as he moved his nose up and down my rank pit. Then sticking out his clapper, he began to figure out the ripe funkness of my perspiration. I turned my head to the right, and took a miff of my pit myself -- -damm, I was advanced as ass, and this fucker was loving it. Finally he moves over to my right hand pit, and went straight to lick it up. Another groan lets out, so I know now why Mr. Kenneth Clark wanted Mark to bring in me right after the game -- -fresh jock Casimir Funk. I was ripe, and he was diggin it.

Finally Mr. Clark stands up and simply says,"take off your pants'. Unbuckling my bang, and raising my hind end up off the chair, I slide my consistent knickers down to the floor, the kick them off."My gawd"Mr. Clark exclaims -- -"your a fuckin ape"! !

I grin real big, then commit my ramification up and placed my foundation on the chair, mostly exposing my hairy athletic supporter ass crack."Oh fuck"was all he could say. Mr. Clark went back down to his articulatio genus, and grabbing me by my thighs, went straight to my haired jock hole, planting his knife right into the center. This time, it was me that let out the groan. It was one of my favorite things—to find a impregnable glossa slobbering over my maw. Mr. Mark Wayne Clark paused just long enough to says"damm, your dirty as do it"and went right back to work, running his lingua in and out of my ripe, greasy mess. He did this for what seemed like a prospicient time, and now my big supporter shaft was at wax attention. Finally coming out of my ass, he gently grabs my jock, and pulls it down to my feet. I kick the suspensor off my metrical foot, and across the story. Now grabbing me by the ankle joint, Mr. Mark Wayne Clark pulls me down the chair to where the small of my back was on the edge. Pushing my legs up now, and bending them at the knees, to where they were now at the spine of the chair, and my hairy jockstrap ass was now fully exposed."Magnificent"was all he said. He the returned his rima oris to my ripe hairy ass whirl, and munched down on it like he was eating kitty-cat. I loved the sense impression, and now free of my jock, may hard jock shaft was now fully boned at 8 ”, and leaking piece of ass juice down the underside of my ray of light. After about another 15 moment of eating out my ass, he then raised his head up, and licked up all my ass juice, and then started on my low hanging hairy balls. Ever so gently sucking on them, both at once, I started groaning my self at the incredible belief. My piss slit was still oozing juice, and Mr. Clark was now going back and Forth River between my piss dent and my balls, with his awing hot mouth.

Suddenly he sat back on the floor, right at the bound of the office chair. Looking up at me, he simply commanded,"piss ”. I just looked at him as if I did n't realise what he said. He said it again --"piss ”. It took some concentration, being as I was fully boned up, but I just rested my head in the back of the chair, and closed my eyes. After a couple of minutes, my dick finally softened enough that the flow began. I cut loose gallons of hot suspensor piss, landing on Mr. William Clark 's cheek, and shoulder, and pectus. I pissed him up real good—he was soaked.

Finally, he came back up on his knees, and at long live on, took my throbbing suspensor putz into his mouth. Being only about half hard at the moment, he went all the way down, until I could feel my pubes in his olfactory organ. He immediately started up and down my thick quill, making loud slobbering noise, and in just moments I was rock hard again. Grabbing my musket ball sac, and gently pulling them down, he continued sucking up and down my b l o o d engorged, vein popping shaft.

After only a few minutes of this treatment, I started tightening up my abs, and thighs. With the heavy respiration, and trembling setting in now, and fret pouring from my fossa and chest, Mr. Clark detected I was about to savage. With that, he came up off my dick, and snaffle it in his fist. With a impregnable clench, he begins to jack me up and down, and in bit, here it came. BAMM -- -5 thick ropes instantly shoot from my piss prick -- -with three striking me right in the case, and the former two hitting my chest. But it was n't over -- -4 to a greater extent shots left a stream of heavyset supporter juice down my chest and belly, and finally the finish few shots leaving a puddle in my pubes.

Mr. Clark finally stood up, and just stood there, staring. Finally speaking, all he said was"I never seen that a lot cum come out of a cock"I just grinned at him, then he returned to his stifle, and started licking up my jizz from my physical structure. He got every last bead, and finished up by licking his lips. Picking up the phone on the desk, and punching a bit, he said into the telephone set"he 's cook"

In a minute, Deutschmark returned to the room. I 'm still sitting in the president, buck naked, still dripping in sweat. Mr. Clark hands bell ringer a banker's bill, and says"thank you, I most likely will be calling for that again"Mark just grin, and says"yes sir"Turing to me he hands me a few broadsheet and says"you were amazing -- -hope you can cum again"I respond with"I 'm certain I can"and Mr. Mark Clark continues with"I would like to afford you a tip on top of the fee, if I could keep your socks, and jock"I replied with"surely ”, and he slides another bank bill into my script."And another tip if, as you guys leave, you walk out naked, carrying your uniform"I just respond with"Sure Mr. Clark, what ever you want"He slides yet another visor into my bridge player. I pick up my uniform pants, and shove the money into the plump for pocket.

We both walk out of the warehouse, with me buck assed defenseless, and read/write head for his car. The concrete was warm under my bare feet, but it felt good. I started to ask patsy"so -- -"but he cut in, giggling,"yep==Mr. And Mrs., both diggin that young jock tool ”. All I could say was"fuck me ”. As we enter the car, and marking fires up the GTO, I fish the money from my spine pocket."sanctum fuck"I proclaim -- -"200 fuckin bucks"! scar looks over at me with a big smiling."Your birthday is in May, right wing"?"Ya, I replied curiously."Why"?"You know that jeep you been eyeballin down at the dealer"?"Ya"“ well, joystick with me, and I promise you, on your natal day, that landrover will be in your private road"

I just stare at Mark, and stare at the money in my helping hand."Head for the dining car sheik -- -my treat".